


A Spirit's Melody

by WintermoonQueen



Series: Elsamaren Summer 2020 [1]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Culture, Elsamaren Summer 2020 (Disney), F/F, Fluff, Iced Honey, Music, Reindeer, Romance, Sharing Culture, Singing, herding reindeer, heritage, honeymaren knows how to play her cards, melodies, smooth romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:42:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25214857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WintermoonQueen/pseuds/WintermoonQueen
Summary: Elsa tags along with Honeymaren and Ryder to herd reindeer, but what she doesn't expect is an extra lesson in Northuldran culture.Elsamaren Summer 2020 || Prompt: Culture & Heritage
Relationships: Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney)
Series: Elsamaren Summer 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827847
Comments: 26
Kudos: 53
Collections: Elsamaren Summer 2020





	A Spirit's Melody

**Author's Note:**

> This find in my Sami research was too good to not take advantage of for this prompt. Also, excuse any missed typos. I edited/revised this myself.

**~ A Spirit’s Melody ~**

“They’re magnificent creatures,” Elsa said, lips parted in awe.

“They certainly are!” Honeymaren grinned beside her as they walked next to the herd of reindeer; the girls flanked the left while Ryder was on the right.

Elsa watched Ryder expertly herd the reindeer on a straight path. There were hundreds of them. The rhythmic sound of their hooves reverberated like thunder on the ground. Elsa could feel the earth tremble beneath her feet, sending waves of shivers up her spine. She felt connected to them. To their magnificence and calmness.

It was one thing to live around Sven in Arendelle, but it was vibrantly different being surrounded by an entire herd of them.

“So where are we leading them to?” Elsa asked, shifting closer to Honeymaren so she could hear her friend’s response.

“To the pens in the lichen meadows. Once there, we herd them into a calm circle while we pick out reindeer to separate,” Honeymaren replied as a matter-of-factly.

Elsa smiled at the way her friend’s eyes lit up. Honeymaren must be ecstatic about sharing her culture; a culture that was also Elsa’s.

The Snow Queen’s heart fluttered for a moment and her stomach churned in excitement. This was what her mother’s people did—this was her  _ heritage _ . This was the most connected to her mother she’d ever felt in six years. The mere thought brought a prickling of tears to the corners of her eyes.

Her reflection was broken by a hand on her shoulder. When Elsa looked up, she found herself immersed in the pools of honey that were Honeymaren’s bright eyes.

A tiny smirk graced her friend’s features.

“Hey, want to hear a joik while we herd the reindeer?” Honeymaren asked, excitement lilting her tone.

“A joik?” Elsa queried, lifting a brow.

“Oh! Right, you’ve never heard of one before. A joik is a dedicated harmony that embodies a person, animal, or a place!” Honeymaren informed, smiling.

Elsa blinked. She returned the smile. Her heart skipped a beat in anticipation.

“You sing to them?” she asked, in awe.

“Well, sort of. We like to sing  _ about _ them. They could care less if it’s  _ to _ them. Though, the melody is calming.” Honeymaren paused to drop to her knees, opening the hefty bag she’d brought with her.

Elsa’s eyes widened when she caught sight of the large drum Honeymaren pulled out. It was upright and round, reminding her of a gong. The leather was worn with age; and, carved along the edges were familiar runes. It was clear that this drum was an heirloom passed down from generations.

As the reindeer continued to follow Ryder’s lead, both women stood still for a moment. Then, Honeymaren propped the large drum on her right shoulder. In her left hand, she wielded a large, round drum stick.

When Honeymaren caught Elsa’s eye, she grinned wide.

“This is called a reindeer joik.” Honeymaren took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Elsa watched with piqued interest when the beat of the drum rang through the air between them. It was solid, yet soft. The short melody rumbled through her chest before another beat sent a tremble down her legs. The pace of the drum thundered to the herd of reindeer.

Honeymaren began to walk and, as if entranced, Elsa followed in her steps. The sound of the drum beside her made her feel grounded. Connected with the forest; the reindeer. As though she were one with them.

Honeymaren tilted her chin up toward the sky. A low hum reverberated from deep within her throat; like an ancient melody that told Elsa of the reindeer’s past and the Northuldran’s connection. Honeymaren then parted her lips and an exquisite, yet beautifully haunting lilt filled the air to the beat of the drum. 

There were no lyrics. Not like Elsa was expecting. What Honeymaren was performing was gentle and soulful. She was in awe at the natural sounds her friend was emitting. She felt connected to the experience. As though she belonged here among the reindeer all along.

Once the melody died down to a slow, gentle tune, Honeymaren tapped the drum one last time. The softness of the sound made Elsa’s heart feel full and relaxed. Never in her life had she heard a melody so thunderous and calming. Never had she felt as connected to nature as she did now.

Elsa blinked. Mouth gaping. Honeymaren chuckled as she lowered the drum, holding it in the crook of her arm instead.

“Was it that bad?” she teased, lifting a curious brow.

Elsa’s eyes widened and she shook her head.

“No! I—not at all! That was. . . Honeymaren that was. . .” she trailed off. How could she describe such a beautiful, yet haunting performance? “You have a beautiful voice,” Elsa finished lamely with awe, cheeks coloring.

Honeymaren laughed lightly.

“It’s okay. You look quite moved. I’ll take that as a compliment!” The Northuldran woman winked, then tilted her head with a smirk. “Ryder can handle the reindeer alone from here. So, we can walk back to camp. Would you like to hear another one along the way?” 

Elsa’s blue eyes brightened. She felt like a child anticipating a bedtime story.

“I’d love to!”

With a bright smile, Honeymaren gently took Elsa’s hand and led her back through the forest and in the direction of the camp. 

Following Honeymaren, Elsa felt a giddiness travel up her legs and tingle in her chest. However, the moment was short lived when her friend slowed down and pulled away to set up her drum once more.

The beat was softer this time, matching their steady footsteps through the forest. Honeymaren met Elsa’s eyes before oddly shying away with a crooked smile. Her eyes slid closed as she hummed first; the sound eerily similar to the lullaby Elsa’s mother sang to her when she was little. 

Then, when Honeymaren’s jaw dropped, a high-pitched ethereal melody echoed through the forest. 

A soft breeze drifted between Elsa’s blonde tresses. She closed her eyes and took a breath. A blanket of tranquility embraced her and, as Honeymaren sang, she used her ears and heart to listen.

It was eerily familiar. Like the siren that had called her to Ahtohallan, but divine and majestic. The spirit of the song lifted her heart and Elsa felt as though she were floating up to the sky and back down to earth. The soft beat of the drum played in sync with the thrumming of her heart. A sense of freedom overcame her and she twirled to the rhythm, releasing a spontaneous giddy laugh. Her arms stretched out at her sides, palms open; and, in that moment, Elsa felt the presence of all four spirits nearby—also enchanted by the melody.

The beat of the drum halted, but Honeymaren’s voice continued to be carried by the wind.

“Ah ah ah ah~” she sang, her voice vibrant, yet sensual.

It shook Elsa to her core. Her heart fluttered.

After one last, lower octave, Honeymaren’s voice died out into a faint hum.

When they opened their eyes, the warmth in Honeymaren’s eyes met the vibrancy of Elsa’s. At some point, the drumstick had fallen onto the grass without either of them knowing and Elsa’s hands were cradled by Honeymaren’s freehand.

Elsa blinked. She tilted her head curiously. A tiny smile graced her flushed features.

“What was that one about?” she whispered, heart hammering in her chest. The effects of the joik still thrummed through her core. It was addicting.

Honeymaren carefully placed down the drum and took Elsa’s other hand to pull her closer. A crooked, yet proud grin curled along her face. She looked down at the contrast of Elsa’s soft hands in hers, ghosting her thumbs over Elsa’s trembling knuckles. 

Then, she met Elsa’s bright blue eyes again with a look of such adoration that made Elsa’s breath catch.

“You,” Honeymaren breathed; her eyes were half-lidded. She leaned closer.

Elsa felt the magnetic pull.

Their eyes closed and their lips met in a soft, yearning kiss that set Elsa’s heart aflame.

**Author's Note:**

> I love writing Honeymaren smooth as all hell. She's a sly little stinker, but look where it got her ;)
> 
> Joik (or yoik): "A joik is dedicated to a person, an animal or a place, and the harmonies reproduce the qualities of the object of the song. If you would like to chat someone up, try “joiking” him/her – it has quite an effect!"
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


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